


The Grotesque Side Effects of Too Much Adoration

by Paranoir



Category: Interview With the Vampire (1994), Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: ...just how I like it ;), I'm ready for hate comments, M/M, Will this be my legacy on this website, dont read this if you love yourself, i listen to too much Marilyn Manson, im horrible, literally came up with this at midnight, oh jesus christ, semi inspired by the song Deformography, very macabre!!!!!, why did I write this, yes this is exactly what you think is going to happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-16 21:58:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10580310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paranoir/pseuds/Paranoir
Summary: Louis and Lestat love each other a little too much... so they do the unimaginable.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Please bear with me I wrote this when I was high on sleep deprivation and it seemed like SUCH A GREAT IDEA at the time. I'm so sorry oh my god

_"The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too."_

_-Ernest Hemingway_

 

* * *

 

 

The power of making love is a gift far beyond the realm of God, or Jesus, or Supernaturalism. And when Lestat pulled out of my cold body, I shuddered. My body was aching for him again, just like it was before he even touched me. As his Februarian body descended back into the confines of our coffin, I used every ounce of energy that was left in me to kiss him roughly.

It was rough enough that his gold hair concocted themselves between my lips,  but I didn't care. It only pushed me to slither myself onto his lap, and constrict my arms around his snowflake neck. He made my lips bleed, and the blood smeared to the outer corners of his lips as if I had rubbed rose petals violently around them. Then I took my time to study him, admiring how my blood adorned the corners, and stretched with his skin as he smiled at me. I only smiled back, and licked the rest from his face.

After I was finished, I lied against his chest, worshipping every heartbeat he gave to me.

"I wish I could be closer to you." I said.

Lestat laughed at the remark. Honestly, I felt like laughing too.

"Louis, if we were any closer, I'd have to be stitched to you."

I pushed my head deeper against his chest.  
"I wouldn't mind that."

"Neither would I."

-

About an hour later, Lestat had me sitting on a bed, where he faced the other side of me. In his left hand, he held my right, and in his right hand, he bared the needle and thread.

And if Lestat wasn't going to kill me through this, apprehension surely would have. In fact, I could hear it's tongue, slobbering all over its teeth, screeching my name.

Was this a good decision? Surely. I never left Lestat. We were practically one body because of it! And I was ready. I had already spent the majority of my life with this man, _this divine man_ , and I was ready to rot all the way into the depths of Hell with him. Not to mention, I was in my purest form: Bare. Naked. Existing to the world the way I was birthed into it.

Lestat sat in front of me milk and bare, white and snow. He met my eyes with such a palpable form of _love_ that I nearly lost myself in them. All I wanted to do was touch his face, creep my way up his cheek and Spider my fingers between his eyelashes. And I did, shaking as our eyes never left each other.

Lestat's pale hand shook while the needle rested cleanly between his thumb and index finger. His left hand was flat against my right, and he pointed the tip to his ring finger, just above the nail. Then he looked up at me.

"Are you ready for this?"

Apprehension was already pawing at me, torturing me! Hissing in my ears and licking my temples!

"Yes I'm ready!" I pleaded, "get it over with-"

My senses had never sang in such a melodic fashion before as they did when Lestat pierced them. They hurt, like a pinch, but it was a good kind of hurt, because right after, I wasn't afraid of apprehension anymore, rather, _apprehension was afraid of me_ , and I _loved_ it. I wanted to scream in its face. I couldn't even feel the pain anymore.

I looked down at our fingers. I should have been horrified with the fact that we were physically _connected_ now, how Lestat was okay with this or how in the world I was okay with this. But I wasn't. I was only staring at my hand, white without any traces of red that would have indicated I had been pierced in the first place. _I was laughing at it_ , crying and looking at Lestat, who was crying at me, and leaning over to kiss my sparkling lips. I _adored_ it. Far too much that anyone could fathom.

And Dare I say... that ordeal almost made me feel human again.

"Should I do it again?" He asked, heart content and fiddling with the needle like a candy.

I fell into the mattress, painlessly pulling Lestat with me. I stared at the ceiling.

"Yes." I said, and moaned at the next suture that had hit my skin. It was right next to the one he had made before, and my God, the pain was tragic. But I was willing to endure anything for Lestat de Lioncourt: The love of my sickly life.

-

Lestat was all over my face when I was connected to him by the knuckle of my little finger. He had the needle dying on the nightstand, and my eyelids became heavy.

"I love you." I said to him, irises mellow like moss; waiting for the golden sun to kick at the windows. Waiting for Lestat to brush his lips across my own like God to his children. But instead, Lestat pulled the blanket over us, thick enough that the sun wouldn't dare to intrude, and he pulled me close to him, covering me with his free arm. All was black, and I couldn't see his face. The only thing I remembered before I fell asleep was my own name, and Lestat's promise to complete us.

-

Lestat decided to focus on our feet the next night. He wouldn't allow me to lie on the bed anymore; rather, he wanted to stay alone in the closet next to it, for _if it's just us two, in one space, and surely, undoubtedly, our bodies will cleanse the area of this room, and make it the purest area in the house._

I did not want to bicker with him, I only complied, though apprehension took another form in me: Wretched Claustrophobia. I wholeheartedly did not want to spend my time with Lestat in that closet, especially for many onerous _hours_ , but I loved Lestat, and he loved me, thus compromises must be acquired.

He had been at it for hours, starting with the toes. And he kept sewing and sewing without breaks in between pain as if I were nothing but a quilt to him! Every small impalement that hit the ends of my toes elicited a jolt in me, whilst Lestat stayed focused like Victor Frankenstein assembling his _creature_ , except, we were both the subjects, as we were both the creators.

That realization had repulsed me. Lestat and I were guinea pigs writhing in our own self pleasure, and _he didn't care!!_

"Don't you think something is off about this?" I asked.

It was the first time Lestat had allowed a pause in between stitching. He looked up at me, grave in his eyes as if he planned to bury me. And for the first time in a while, I had looked at him with fear. The saltwater in my eyes were becoming pink from blood, and it started to deform my vision.

"Why would you ask such a thing?" He inquired, "isn't this how all lovers feel? As one being? We're just making it physical, Louis! Can't you see?!? Don't you love me?"

I wiped my eyes, and looked down at our feet, which weren't red, or deformed, or bleeding, it was as simple to imagine it as if it were actually normal: They were normal, as if untouched, yet they were conjoined at the ends with string, and nothing else.

Such a heinous thing.

"Yes, I do love you!" I cried, "but did we think about the consequence of this??? No we didn't! How are we going to move Lestat? How are we going to drink? We are going to starve in this manifestation, can't you see??? I love you to death, but there's certainly far more constructive acts of love we can do rather than this!"

Lestat stared at me, and put the needle through the toes of the next pair of feet.

"We _will not_ starve to death!" He shouted, and stitched through the next toe, more vigorous and the first, "We shall dine on the rats that will inhabit this building as it makes love to the ground beneath it! Becoming evermore decrepit as we won't be able to renovate it when it needs to be! And did you forget, Louis? We are immortal! Therefore we can live in ways beyond human comprehension! So why don't we show it then?!? This is love in its rawest form, can't you see??? We are literally- as I said physically, and _symbolically_ \- at one with our own bodies! But you can't see that, can you? Huh, Louie???"

"Oh yes," I said, "I can see the full reasoning behind our decision, but doing this... is just plain and vile blasphemy! We will never be able to live normal lives because of this! We can never talk to another vampire because of this, unless the poor soul comes to find us first! Why, imagine the horror on Armand's face if he saw us naked and stitched together as we are! What do you think he would do?!?"

"Shut the _fuck_ up about Armand!" Lestat said, " _you are mine, Louis, not his!_ So don't you dare bring him into this situation!"

He finished the last stitch with the toes, and they looked far more raucous than the other pair. They were straight and next to perfect- whilst this pair attached to my right foot looked like it had been does for the first time by an anxious med student. This wasn't beauty at all! This had the same traction to someone as cutting a worm in half!

"But what _if!_ " I insisted, "we could do so many other things, human or vampire- that could show our love! We can kiss, caress each other, flirt, make love, buy each other gifts, or go places together. There's so many things!!!"

"But this is _unique_." Lestat said, "and we can still do half those things!"

He touched my thigh,  
"We can caress..."

He touched my groin,  
"We can make love..."

He layed on top of me, and pushed his lips against mine.  
"And we can kiss..."

But I slapped him.  
"But this isn't normal! Please, just take these off me! I was wrong, Lestat! I was! My god, what have we done???"

Lestat looked at me with sympathy, and rubbed his cheek. Still, he refused to get off of me, only working up to my left hip, stitching the skin so tightly that even if he wanted to, he could never get off of me.

"Stop crying, Louis." He cooed, "we're going to be perfect, as we love each other very much, and you'll regret this whole conversation..."

Blood tears had stained my corneas, and found themselves dying against my temples. Lestat was smearing them as he kissed me, and when they were on his face, they no longer made him beautiful.

I was no longer beautiful.

"Lestat, please," I pleaded, "stop..."

The sun was rising now; I could see the glow through the bottom of the closet door. That sent my instincts into overdrive, and like a ghost, I was screaming at him. Nonetheless, he insisted on shushing me.

Nothing Lestat could ever do would soothe me now. My muscles, like disease, started convulsing and twitching in the most deformed way imaginable. More deformed than the love I held for dear Lestat, more deformed than our conjoined bodies. And when I took my chance to move my hand away, hard enough to rip the stitches, Lestat moved with it, and laughed.

I only bawled.  
"Why are you doing this?!?" I pleaded with him, just like convincing God that I was not destined for Hell. Or maybe pleading with him to take me to Hell, for if being attached to Lestat like this was Heaven,

I'd rather burn in Hell.

"Oh Louis, you fool!" He growled, "I can read your mind, don't forget! I know exactly what you're thinking, and what you're going to do. And, _this isn't Heaven or Hell. This is Earth; Heaven and Hell don't exist."_

I howled at him, and tried to hit my hand down. Lestat only followed it. I tried to knee him, but he already had them pinned down with his own. I tried to flip on top of him, but he pushed all his weight against me when I tried.

All I had left was crying to him now, hoping it would change his mind because I was utterly _helpless_ to him now.

"I love you Louis." He said, and picked up the needle again. This time, it was headed straight for my face, and perhaps, I truly did see the face of God at its tip, telling me Lestat was wrong, and that I was finally rotting in hell for my sins like I always deserved. I didn't want to believe him. Nobody should have to endure this for their love; even the Devil would give better mercy.

Then my eyes shifted to Lestat, who had the precious eyes, and my ugly blood on him, but his face screamed venom. The needle tip shifted, and came for his face. And at his full mercy, I had to endure the treachery of Lestat pushing the needle through his lips, watching crimson poison drip down from the incision, only having him lick it up in the end like syrup.

After, he drew to needle towards me.

"You WRETCH!" I screamed, the needle driving closer and  
Closer

"You won't do this to me! Lestat, I know you won't!"

He lost every amount of preciousness in his eyes now. The only thing I saw were beetles in their reflection.

And they were coming for me.

When I couldn't back my head away any more, he allowed the needle to impale me. The pain was a pain unlike any of the other stitches, like rats trying to eat my face off.

"You WITCH!" I bawled. The sun was starting to peak.

Blood filled my vision just like the way it filled my mouth, and now Lestat was pulling himself closer to me, closer and closer, becoming Lucifer, not even paying mind to the sunlight burning our feet. I was screaming, he wasn't.

"No, no!" I writhed, "you will not do this witch! Fiend! Devil!"

I was spitting blood at him. But he didn't seem to care! My God, Lestat truly was a monster! A creature! An _it!_ The walls were caving in. He was finally taking me over! Filling me and filling me with his horrific lips until his beetle eyes were all that dominated me-!

"Louis?"

I opened my eyes again. I was not burning, I was not naked, I was not in a closet. I was in the middle of a bed, and Lestat sat next to me, stroking my hair and holding my hand.

I let out a cry and jolted away from him. It nearly scared him to death.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

I stared at him, shaking like a dog, rubbing my quivering lips. I didn't want to answer him.

"What happened?" I asked him.

"You were convulsing in your sleep." He said, trying to reach for my cheek, and like a child, I pulled away.

"What happened Louis? Something's not right."

I looked at Lestat, and looked at his clothes. Then I looked at my clothes, and looked at my hands. They were untouched, able to open and close of there own, just like my lips and feet, and my wiggling hips.

"Was it the dream?" He asked.

I nodded.

"Do you want to talk about it, love?"

I paused. Looked at him, then shook my head.

"I just want to be left alone." I said. Lestat nodded, and stood up.

"If you need anything, just know you're welcome to talk to me in the living room. I'll be reading there."

I nodded, and he smiled at me sweetly. I watched him as he tiptoed away, all the way at the door until-

"Lestat?"

"Yes, Louis?"

"Would you hurt me?"

He furrowed his eyebrows, "I would never! What are you getting at?"

"Nothing." I said, "I love you."

He gifted me with a more perplexed expression.

"I love you... too?"

Dare I say I found myself snickering.

**Author's Note:**

> There's actually a message behind this, believe it or not.


End file.
